Somewhere in this flickering ether is the soul to whom Maw-maw, over cast-iron and roux steam, spoke so freely. The call has come to commune with myself in a ritual, ancient and eroding with the coastline, that journeys to living and other planes.
NOWHERE FM is, at this writing, a solo endeavor. And I feel behind my eyes and under my sternum an irreducible sense: a suspicion this is all delusion. Or deluge. A roar of television static and radio noise spills from jammed sets, blaring as a reminder that it is difficult to hear one’s self, let alone anyone else.
This publication is a humble altar. It is my hope that in these missives, rambles, and invocations, you will find a few words to which you can relate. This is neither parable nor prescription on how to be. It is a collection of descriptions of ways of being.
At a time when attention is currency, ritual is reduced to the tap of a virtual button, and poetry is relegated to background music streams, the collective temperament tends towards ennui. Cynicism is easy and palliative but turns to numbness. And numb is not quite living.
May this broadcast be a call against scrolling on, dropping out, and fading away. An affirmation of turning to eleven and basking in the glow of being. You are here and encouraged to set your frequency high and loud.